My spine stiffens, but I slide my arm into his. I won’t let him beat me, even without my scary-dog privilege. “Wouldn’t want itany other way, Desmond. It’s nice to put a face to the name after all this time.”
“Nice?” He chuckles, and the sound is like gravel in his chest. When he bends lower and breathes against my ear, his warm breath does the opposite of giving me goosebumps. My skin wants to recede inside itself. “Aren’t you terribly afraid?”
Yeah, I am, and if I didn’t care so much about my image, my weak-ass bladder would release and I’d be pissing myself right now. He can’t know that I’m scared out of my mind, though, so I offer him a playful roll of my eyes as I turn my head and whisper right back, “I’m not the one who should be afraid.”
He laughs again, right as the gates open for us to board the ride. I allow him to load first, mostly so that he doesn’t enjoy the same view of my ass that Sim Aven had. Desmond doesn’t get that honor. Now, if I’d had a nice explosion brewing in my gut, I’d have crop dusted him and not felt bad about it, but my bowels have chosen the freeze response. I almost feel numb as I sink into the seat and pull the lap bar over my thighs. It clicks into place and holds me down.
I look over at Desmond. He smirks at me and goes to lower the lap bar, then shakes his head and moves to get out of the seat.
“Where are you going?” I ask, panicked. Did I fuck this up? Did he sense how terrified I am and decide it’s not worth it, it’s too easy?
Before he fully exits his seat, he flops back down and turns to face me. “I won’t be riding this with you today, Quinn. I’ve had fun playing our little game of hide and seek, but now I’m bored. You know who I am, and I’ve known who you are for a very long time. So let’s play a new game, hmm?”
“What do you mean?” I pull on the lap bar, but it’s already locked in place. I’m trapped. “Watching me rub my cunt for abunch of randos on the internet doesn’t tell you anything other than whether the carpet matches the drapes.”
I yank on the lap bar again as he rises to leave. I can’t let him get away. Not when he’s suddenly being so open. God, why can’t I get other men to open up like this?
Speaking of other men, Aven may not be where I can see him, but he’s watching. He has to be. There’s no way he’d leave me to my own devices at such a crucial moment. I might act like I know what I’m doing, but I have no clue what these buttons do, and the machine is starting to smoke.
Desmond stops and places his hands over mine. “Stop all the fretting and enjoy the coaster. We’ll have plenty of time for conversation later. Don’t you worry.” Before he reaches the exit, he turns to me with one parting shot. “Oh, and the person who told me the last seat on the train is the best? That was your mother.”
As he turns with a laugh, I shout for the ride attendant to cut me loose, but it’s useless. The ride music has already started, and it drowns out anything I say. Desmond slides into the shadows with a gentle wave, and then he’s gone.
Chapter Twenty
Aven
The coaster flies by on my left, and I spot Quinn’s golden ponytail whipping through the breeze. She zips by too quickly for me to see her face, but I note that the seat beside her is empty. As I’m processing this, the man who I believe to be Desmond comes strolling out of the ride exit. He stops at the top of the stairs and turns to watch the coaster barrel down another hill.
I tuck myself beneath the stairs before he notices me. After a tense few seconds of silence, his boots clank overhead, and then he’s gone.
I pull myself from the hiding place, confused. Why isn’t he riding with her?
What happened?
I turn and watch the coaster as it comes around another turn, clipping the Cattle positioned on the edge of the track. A spray of red coats the passing car as both of the figure’s arms and one of their feet disconnect and go flying. The body flips through the airwith a scream before slamming onto the track with a silencing splat. I’d laugh if I weren’t so concerned about Quinn.
Seconds later, brakes hiss, and feet clomp on the ramp as everyone exits. Ice Pick is all smiles as he totters down the stairs. A splash of crimson coats his bald head. He gives me a wave and a thumbs-up as he keeps walking, muttering something about riding again once they set up another body. Grim and Rose follow close behind him, and the skinny guy—the one that always seems to be hanging around our Desmond suspect—brings up the rear.
But where the fuck is Quinn?
I push past them and hurry up the stairs. That’s when the phone in my pocket buzzes with an alert. I stop at the top of the stairs as I free the device. I can see Quinn now. She’s still seated in the last car, looking down at the phone in her lap.
I know this isn’t very attractive, but I’m scared and I don’t know what to do.
My heart squeezes in my chest. I never wanted the girl to be scared. When I left her alone on the platform, I did so because I figured I’d just be in the way. This wasn’t supposed to happen. She was supposed to ride this stupid coaster with him, then entice him back to her room. After that, I’d kill him and deal with Jim’s consequences. I’m not waiting any longer for him to hurt her.
I type out a reply and hit send.
It’s okay to be scared. I get scared all the time. Where are you?
She can’t know it’s me. I have to pretend I’m oblivious to the situation, though I’m not entirely pretending. The reasons for the man’s departure and Quinn’s tears are very big unknowns.
I hide my device and hurry to her side. When she sees me on the platform, she shoves the phone into her pocket and swipes the tears from her cheeks. I’ll pretend I didn’t see the cell, but I don’t think I can ignore the discomfort on her face.
I offer her my hand, but she gets off the ride on her own.
“No, don’t try to help me now. You weren’t here when I actually needed you, so there’s no need to make an effort at this point. You just left me alone”—she glances around—“with a fuckingmurderer.”
